


The Dragon and the Knight

by That_Ginger_004



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Different Powers, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Cliche, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Superheroes, Vigilante AU, vigilantes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:15:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27262576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/That_Ginger_004/pseuds/That_Ginger_004
Summary: Merlin isn’t quite sure when he started trusting Knight. That’s the thing about trust - it sneaks up on you, sometimes. It seems reckless, perhaps, dangerous even, for Merlin to trust Knight so much, but.But.Trust is leaping off a roof with a broken grappling hook and only a practical stranger at your side, with no guarantee that he’ll catch you. Reckless, dangerous, potentially deadly.Stupid.Merlin leaps anyway.In which Merlin and Arthur are both vigilantes, and both stupid.
Relationships: Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 124





	The Dragon and the Knight

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back babey :)
> 
> Was rewatching Arrow/the Flash and had a Thought. This is everything cliche, and we love to see it. I was imagining Merlin's costume as something similar to Hiccup in HTTYD3, and Arthur's as a leather-based traditional looking armour set. Arthur's helmet/mask covers only his eyes/upper face, and Merlin's covers his entire face.

Thinking back, Merlin can’t quite remember the events that led to his becoming a vigilante. 

Sure, there was the obvious things: the playground bullies he’d stood up to when no one else would; the way the law enforcement in his city seemed to turn a blind eye to certain crimes; the boiling rage he felt every time he turned on the news. 

The explosion.

The resulting fire that had fused itself to his very core, warping his DNA into something _burning_ , always burning.

Even without those things, however, he thinks he would have wanted - _needed_ \- to do _something_ , at least. 

Even with those things, he remains unsure of exactly how he wound up standing on this rooftop, about to plunge into the inevitable chaos below. 

“If I die, I’m going to kill you,” he says into his comms. 

“Sure,” Lance replies, and Merlin can hear him grinning, the asshole. “You can’t let those weapons get away, Merl,” 

“I know,” he sighs. “Catch you on the flip.” 

He grapples down from the roof silently, counting heads as he goes. Five, in the initial exchanging of the arms, two manning the door, three more outside by the trucks. And just one of him. Bad odds, even for him. He’ll have to try for as much subtlety as he can.

Two of the three by the truck are out before they know what hit them. The third takes a little more persuasion, but the shock of seeing his assailant’s hands erupt into flames stuns him enough for Merlin to knock him out as well. He tampers his flames down quickly, hoping the brief exchange was quieter than it seemed - but from the sound of it, the people inside know something’s up.

Merlin mutters a curse, cracks his neck, raises his hands, and damns subtlety to hell. 

The door blasts in, smoldering, taking out at least one of the guards on the way. The other manages to fire off a few shots, but Merlin has a way with guns. Something about the gunpowder, he imagines. It explodes in the guard’s hands, sending him flying back, and Merlin moves on. 

The people making the deal are shouting, and there’s at least two more guns being pointed his way. With a pointed wave of his hand, they explode as well, and now his targets are down to three. Much more reasonable. 

“Go, go!” one of them yells, shoving a crate towards another, then turns and throws a knife at Merlin. 

It catches him in his upper arm, slicing a deep cut in his bicep, and his concentration falters just long enough for the man with the crate to slip past him. Merlin curses again, but then the first man, with the knife, is upon him, and he has to deal with that. Between him, and the third man, also armed with steel, Merlin is delayed long enough for the man with the crate to be halfway down the street in one of the trucks. 

Merlin bursts out onto the street, the men in the building groaning in piles on the floor, and shoots a burst of flames after the truck. They fall just short, scorching the doors but leaving it intact enough to keep moving. Merlin grits his teeth and runs after it, feeling heat curl up in his veins. 

The truck is only getting further away, and Merlin snarls because he’s not going to make it, damnit, and his anger only encourages his fire. He bursts into flames with the heat of it, but it’s too late, it’s too late, the truck is getting away, and with it the weapons he was trying to keep off the streets. 

He slows to a stop, glowering at the truck, hoping for something - _anything_ \- to go wrong, when a man steps out onto the road in its path. Merlin stares, shocked. The truck has no intention of stopping; if anything, it’s speeding up, and Merlin can only watch in horror as the man raises an arm and doesn’t move. He opens his mouth - for what, he’s not sure, he’s too far away for the man to hear him. 

Then the truck plows into the man, and everything grinds to a halt. Somehow, _somehow_ , the truck stops, crumpling, and Merlin runs over before he’s even registered what’s happened. The man is still standing there, and as Merlin runs up, he shakes out his hand like it was a fly he swatted, not a truck.

“How did you…” Merlin trails off, staring at the man, then the wreckage of the truck. 

“Same way you--” the man breaks off, gesturing at Merlin. 

Merlin frowns, then realises he’s still on fire. “Right,” he mutters, fire dying out. 

“You must be the Dragon,” the man says. 

“That’s me.” Merlin says, recovering enough to bow slightly as he does. 

Belatedly, he realises the man is wearing a costume too. It’s dark, and in the somewhat dim light of the street, it’s hard to tell what it is - but it looks almost like a suit of armour, complete with a partial helmet, cape and all. 

“And you are..?” Merlin asks, gesturing at the man’s own suit. 

“Call me Knight,” he grins, almost feral, teeth glinting in the low light. 

“Well, Knight,” Merlin tilts his head back, sizing up the other man. “Thanks for the assist,” 

“Anytime,” Knight says, tipping an imaginary hat. “You got it from here?” 

“Absolutely,” Merlin says firmly. 

“Great. See you round, Dragon,” Knight grins again, then takes a few running steps towards the nearest building and simply _leaps_ to the roof. 

“Unbelievable.” Merlin murmurs, laughing slightly, watching the Knight’s silhouette as he flits away across the rooftops. 

In the truck, the driver starts to move, groaning, blood trickling from a cut to his head. Merlin looks at him, then at the crumpled truck, and is almost glad to hear sirens approaching from the distance. 

By the time the authorities arrive, all ten men from the building are zip tied and dazed in a row next to the truck, and the crate holding the weapons is in front of them with a note from Merlin that’s only a little passive aggressive. 

***

“It was unbelievable, Lance, he just jumped to the roof of the building! It was like ten floors up!” Merlin enthusiastically says, waving his free hand around at his friend. 

“Okay I checked, and none of the buildings on that street are taller then seven floors, so,” Lance informs him, hiding a laugh. 

“Seven floors, Lance!” Merlin shouts.

“Keep still.” Gwen says firmly, pressing her hand on Merlin’s shoulder. 

She’s busy cleaning up his cut, fussing over whether it needs stitches or not, and it’s all Merlin can do to obey. 

“You’re lucky this wasn’t worse, Merlin,” Gwen scolds. “Hand me the suture kit, please.” 

Lance obediently hands her the kit, and Merlin pouts a little in anticipation of what’s to come. 

“They were ready for me,” he says. “Only two of them went for their guns,”

“Oh, only two, he says,” Lance snorts, rolling his eyes. 

“You don’t think that this Knight person was helping them, do you?” Gwen frets, worrying her lip with her teeth. 

“No, of course not,” Merlin frowns at the thought. “I’d never have stopped them if he hadn’t stepped in.”

Gwen hums, unconvinced, threading the suture needle carefully. 

“It does seem a little suspicious, don’t you think?” Lance says. “The timing of it all, I mean,” 

“Come off it,” Merlin says. “He was helping me,”

“Was he? I don’t seem to recall you mentioning him stick around,” Gwen points out gently. 

“You said he was wearing a mask, too,” Lance says it like it means something. 

“More of a helmet, really,” Merlin attempts a shrug, then winces at the shot of pain that surges through his arm. “Besides, I wear a mask as well. I’m not sure that’s a good basis for our judging whether or not someone is trustworthy,”

“I don’t like it,” Lance shakes his head. 

“Someone else was bound to show up eventually, I suppose,” Gwen reasons, bless her heart. 

“Exactly,” Merlin beams at her. “We’ve been at this for almost two years now, and we’ve been getting loads of media attention recently. He’s probably just some guy who wanted some of the spotlight,”

“I guess,” Lance says slowly. 

“Look, I’ll be careful,” Merlin says, serious. “If there’s any sign of trouble, he’ll be our number one priority. Until then, who knows? It could be nice to have some assistance.” 

Lance still doesn’t look convinced, but Gwen is ready with the kit, and the subject is abruptly changed when she mentions how she’ll have to repair his suit. 

Merlin’s suit is a deep purple, with tints of red when the light hits it right. It’s got scales decorating it, leaning into his Dragon persona, and he wears a full face, viking-esque mask. The mask is etched with the rough facial features of a dragon, and opens only around his eyes. The full look, when combined with his fire, can intimidate even the roughest of men, and Merlin loves it. He’s not quite sure what Gwen made it out of, but it’s fireproof, and provides a necessary cushioning of armour around all his vitals. 

It doesn’t escape his notice that the harsh lines and rough visage of the suit - and his persona - are at almosts complete odds with his natural personality; but, as Gwen had pointed out when she first presented it to him, that fact is just another thing that serves to separate Merlin Emrys from the Dragon vigilante. 

Merlin grits his teeth through the stitches, nodding at Gwen’s instructions of rest, not quite able to meet her eyes as he does so. They all know he’s not going to follow them. 

The events of the night catch up with him in a rush as he’s leaving their lair, and it’s all he can do to stay awake on the short trip back to his flat. It won’t do to get attacked while he’s out of costume. 

Eventually, he stumbles into his tiny apartment, exhausted, and is asleep almost before his head hits his pillow. 

***

He dreams of a red cloak snapping in the wind, and the glint of white teeth gleaming beneath a helmet. 

***

Merlin’s on his way to his favourite cafe when he bumps into a stranger. He’s still in the lobby of his building, not really paying attention to his surroundings, and he collides with the broad shoulders of a man carrying a box. 

“Sorry!” Merlin blurts, reaching out to steady the box. 

“It’s alright,” the man says, smiling at him. “I wasn’t looking,”

“Funny,” Merlin smiles back. “I was going to say the same thing.”

There’s a beat, both of them staring at each other, then Merlin ducks his head, looking away. Spending so much time in his Dragon mask has only increased his anxiety when out of it, and he’s about to move on when the man introduces himself. 

“Arthur,” he says, shifting the box to one arm with ease and holding out his hand. “I’m shifting into 8B.”

Merlin desperately tries not to stare at Arthur’s exposed bicep, and ignores the way his mouth dries. 

“Merlin,” he manages, taking Arthur’s outstretched hand. “8A,”

“Ah,” Arthur grins, shaking his hand firmly. “Not too loud, I hope,” 

Merlin thinks of stumbling into his flat at 3am last night, and shakes his head. “Odd hours, sometimes, but I’ve not had any complaints about noise,”

“Me too,” Arthur says, shifting the box back so he’s holding it with both hands again. “Odd hours, I mean.” 

Merlin’s trying to think of something to say to that when the lobby door bangs open and a girl marches in with another box. 

“Come one, Arthur, these are heavy, and not all of us have--” she breaks off when she sees Merlin. “Personal trainers,” 

Merlin can’t help but feel she’d meant to say something else.

“I’m Morgana,” she introduces, somewhat standoffish. “You’ll have to forgive my brother, he can be too chatty for his own good, sometimes,” 

“Merlin,” Merlin smiles. “My friends would say the same about me, I’m sure,” 

“We’d better get moving,” Arthur says, scowling at Morgana. “We only paid for a half hour of parking,” 

“Sure,” Merlin nods. “Nice meeting you. Let me know if you need anything,” 

“Likewise.” Arthur smiles at Merlin again, then heads off after his sister. 

Merlin absolutely does not turn and watch him go. 

***

When Merlin was six, a bird flew into his bedroom window and broke its wing. He’d thought it was dead, and was bawling his eyes out when it woke up and tried to fly away. His mother, at his insistence, helped him splint the wing and nurse it back to health. 

By all rights, the bird should have died - but fate hadn’t counted on Merlin intervening. 

Six years old, and already a force to be reckoned with.

***

Merlin runs into the Knight again four nights later, taking down a major drug exchange. He’s surrounded, trying to fight his way out, desperately trying to keep a hold on the fire surrounding him lest it cause irreversible damage to his opponents, when Knight drops into the midst of the fight. 

“Need a hand?” he yells, flashing his teeth at Merlin, and Merlin grins fiercely under his mask. 

Knight pulls out an honest-to-god sword, and together they beat back their opponents to a man. Their last opponent clearly has more guts then brain, because he charges them empty handed. In less than a second he’s groaning on the floor with the rest.

“Thanks,” Merlin says, nodding at Knight. 

“Told you,” Knight says, panting slightly. “Anytime.” 

Knight sticks around this time, helping Merlin bind the thugs and craft his note to the police, and they part ways only when the sirens are almost upon them. 

***

Arthur’s right about the odd hours thing - he passes Merlin in the hall in the wee hours on more than one occasion. It’s strange for Merlin to see anyone in his building, but he becomes accustomed to their meetings in the hall. 

“Rough night?” Merlin asks one evening, raising an eyebrow at Arthur. 

He’s got a cut on his head, oozing blood, and Merlin feels an inexplicable urge to take care of him. 

“The roughest,” Arthur says, wheezing out a pained chuckle. “Clipped my head on a cabinet at work,”

“Need a hand? I’ve been told I have a healer’s touch,” Merlin offers before he even quite knows what he’s saying. 

“Really?” Arthur asks, looking dubious. 

“Nah, but I did do a year of med school,” Merlin grins. “Come on.” 

He opens his apartment door and ushes Arthur in, directing him to sit on the rickety old sofa. 

“A year of med school, huh?” Arthur asks. “Did you drop out?” 

Merlin collects his first aid kit then turns to stare at Arthur. Not many people are that direct when he tells them he only did a year. 

“Sorry,” Arthur flushes. “That was rude. No judgement from me, promise, I dropped out of law school, so,” 

“It’s fine,” Merlin says, crossing to stand in front of Arthur and handing him the kit to hold. “I was in an accident. Couldn’t go back even if I wanted to.”

It’s not entirely the truth, but it’s close enough. For some reason, though, Merlin feels bad lying to Arthur. 

Arthur seems at a loss for words, unsure of how to respond, and eventually settles on apologising again. “I’m sorry to hear that,”

“Don’t be,” Merlin smiles. “Ancient history,”

“What do you do now?” Arthur asks, looking up at Merlin. 

He thinks about jumping off of rooftops, burning, and takes a second to respond, cleaning Arthur’s cut to cover the silence. 

“Freelance, mostly,” he says instead. “Art, some graphic design. You?” 

“Temp work,” Arthur says, grimacing. “It’s boring, but it pays the bills.”

They swap some more small talk while Merlin places a small butterfly stitch over Arthur’s wound. 

“You want to keep it clean, monitor for infection. I can have a look in a few days, but it should heal pretty quick,” Merlin directs when he’s finished. 

“Thanks,” Arthur smiles again. 

“Anytime,” Merlin smiles back, echoing the Knight’s promise. 

***

Merlin had been at the chemistry lab at his university when the accident happened. He’d just finished his first year of med school, and was shining with excitement over his future in a way that only the young can. His friend Will had promised to meet him, but was running late, so Merlin went to the labs to find him instead. 

He’d just arrived, was barely three steps in the door, when the building exploded. 

Whatever chemicals were in the lab slammed into him with the oncoming wall of fire, and he’d woken up three days later in hospital with no visible burns, his DNA somehow fused with the explosion. 

The doctors had said it was lucky he only had a concussion, but Merlin didn’t feel lucky. His best friend was dead, and he was burning, _burning_ , only he wasn’t. 

He found out about his abilities the day of Will’s funeral, when his grief consumed him so much he burst into flames at the heat of it.

Two days later he dropped out of uni.

A month after that, the Dragon hit the streets for the first time. 

***

Merlin’s sitting on a rooftop a few blocks from his apartment, surveying the city below, when he becomes aware of a presence behind him. He turns his head slightly to see Knight. 

“Dude,” Merlin snorts. “Are you following me or something?” 

“You’re not the only one who hangs out on rooftops at night you know,” Knight says, sitting down next to Merlin. 

“Slow night?” Merlin asks, giving Knight a sidelong glance. 

Knight exhales slowly and nods.

“You’re new at this, huh?” Merlin says, a smile playing at his lips. 

“Is it that easy to tell?” 

“You’re doing well,” Merlin says, in lieu of an answer. “But slow nights, they’re kind of a blessing, after a while,” 

“It’s been two years for you, right?” Knight asks, looking at Merlin. 

Merlin nods. “Just about, yeah,” 

“Got any tips?” Knight smiles tightly at Merlin.

Merlin’s not quite sure what to say - what advice he can give. Luckily - or unluckily, depending - a wail of sirens echoes up from the streets below, and he’s spared of coming up with something. 

“Think that’s our cue,” Merlin says, pulling himself up in one fluid motion. 

“Guess so,” Knight grins, standing up. “Race you there,”

“You’re on.” Merlin replies, grinning despite the mask. 

Knight’s grin turns into that same wild thing Merlin saw that first night, and he takes a few steps back before running forward and throwing himself off the roof. 

Merlin snorts, shoots his grappling hook, and takes off after Knight. 

***

The newspaper the next day sports a photo of the two of them on the front cover, and Merlin grins when he sees it. He’s in the lobby of his building, staring down at the paper, when Arthur runs into him.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” Arthur smiles. 

“Yeah,” Merlin smiles back at him. 

“Is that the Dragon?” Arthur asks, nodding at the paper Merlin’s holding. 

Merlin glances down at it and nods. “Sure is,” 

“Pretty cool, huh,” Arthur says, and Merlin can’t help but feel a rush of pride. “Who’s that other guy?” 

“They’re calling him the Knight, I think,” Merlin says. “Says he’s got super strength,” 

“Wicked.” Arthur grins, looking for all the world like an excited child on Christmas. 

Merlin nods, grinning back. It’s strange, to be talking about himself like this. It’s a very weird feeling. He wants to tell Arthur that it’s him in this photo, that he’s the one they’re talking about. Instead, he says, “The Knight and the Dragon. There’s got to be some irony there somewhere,"

Arthur laughs, tipping his head back, and Merlin finds his gaze drawn to the curve of his neck; his Adam’s apple threatening to hold him hostage. His mouth dries, and he takes a deep breath. 

“Did you, uh,” Merlin breaks off. Bad idea. He continues anyway. “Did you want to maybe get a drink sometime?”

“A drink?” Arthur asks, surprised. 

“Yeah, just,” Merlin falters. It’s been a long time since he’s asked someone for a drink. And he doesn’t even know if Arthur sways that way. “You’re new around here, right? There’s a good bar a few blocks from here,” 

“Oh,” Arthur says - and, is Merlin imagining it, or does he sound disappointed? “Yeah, that’d be great,” 

“Cool,” Merlin smiles again. “Is tonight good?” 

“Yeah,” Arthur nods, smiling back. “Seven?” 

“Sounds good,” Merlin replies. His phone starts buzzing in his pocket, and he pulls it out to see Gwen’s name and image. “I’ve got to take this, sorry,” 

“All good. See you later,” Arthur claps him on the shoulder, and heads off.

Merlin nods as he answers the phone, turning away. “Gwen?” 

“You,” Gwen’s voice buzzes out at him, sounding more upset then she has in a while. “Have some explaining to do, _Dragon_ ,” 

Merlin presses his lips together and hisses out a breath. “You’ve seen the paper, huh,” 

“Get to the lair,” she says, firm. 

“I’ll be there in ten,” he hangs up, and heads out the door.

***

The worst part isn’t Lance yelling or Gwen’s upset stare - it’s the fact that they kind of have a point. Merlin almost definitely should have told them he’d seen Knight again. 

“So what, you guys are working together now?” Lance says, frown firm on his face.

“No!” Merlin protests. “Maybe… I don’t know, it was three times, that’s all,”

“Three times?” Lance shouts, throwing his hands up. “Great, Merlin, that’s great,” 

“Lance...” Merlin says, unsure. 

“I just… I thought we were supposed to be a team,” Lance sighs. 

“We are!” Merlin reaches for Lance, but the other man pulls away.

“Well you’re not exactly behaving like it right now, Merlin,” Lance says, walking away.

Merlin watches him go, feeling like something has just broken.

“He’s right, Merlin,” Gwen says gently, touching his shoulder. “You should have told us,” 

“I’m sorry,” he looks down. “I just… wanted to keep it to myself, for a while,” 

“Oh, Merlin,” Gwen says, voice impossibly soft. “I hope you know what you’re doing,” 

Merlin looks at her, but can’t keep eye contact. He nods instead, taking a deep breath in and out. He’s not quite sure how Gwen does it, but she’s always been perceptive about his feelings. Even feelings he hasn’t realised he has yet. 

***

His one night of drinking with Arthur quickly turns into another, and before he knows it, it becomes a regular thing for them. 

The same can be said for Knight - once Lance cools down, Merlin talks with him and Gwen andt they agree it’s okay for him to continue partnering with the other hero. Merlin thinks that maybe Gwen had a talk to Lance about it, because he doesn’t really get much pushback about it.

It’s confusing, hanging out with the two of them. They’re so similar, yet so different, and it’s driving Merlin crazy thinking about which one he’d rather spend time with. It’s stupid, really, since he knows next to nothing about Knight, and Arthur’s about told him his entire life story.

He’s learnt that Arthur’s father had controlled his life for so long, manipulating him into doing things he hated, and when Arthur finally stood up to him and dropped out of law school he was so angry that he hasn’t talked to his son since. He’s learnt that Arthur is fiercely protective of his sister Morgana - who Merlin had met briefly when he’d met Arthur - and that she’s some sort of tech genius who’d coached him through his lowest points. Arthur had grown up without his mother, and he desperately wishes he’d known her. 

Arthur is brave, and kind, and funny, and Merlin is in so deep it’s ridiculous. But then - then - there’s Knight. 

Merlin would very much like to learn more about Knight, but they’re both wary of sharing too much about their lives. They stick to small talk instead, mostly, but something about the masks - the illusion of anonymity - makes it easy to trip into deep conversations. 

He knows it’s stupid, but Merlin feels inexplicably drawn to Knight. He can’t explain or justify it in any way, but spending time with him makes Merlin remember what it was like when he’d just started out. All of the highs, and none of the lows. 

Trying to think about Arthur and Knight at the same time makes his head spin. 

He’s so screwed. 

***

Merlin’s on a roof with Knight, winding down after a packed night. To top things off, they’d had a run in with the police. The police chief was anxious to catch them - Merlin had been making the department look like fools for coming up three months, and the appearance of Knight seems to have tipped them from eager to desperate. 

“Good work tonight,” Merlin says, hitting Knight’s shoulder lightly. 

“Thanks,” Knight flashes a wild grin at Merlin. “I thought the police were gonna get us at one point,” 

“You thought right,” a voice booms from the other side of the roof. 

“Get down!” Merlin shouts, pushing Knight down. 

A gun goes off before Merlin can detect it, bullet whizzing across the roof and hitting Merlin’s grappling hook. He pulls it off his belt, cursing - the bullet hit the wire, it’ll be useless now. 

“Come peacefully,” the Officer says, stepping into the light and raising his gun again. “You’re surrounded,” 

“Un-bloody-likely,” Merlin hisses, disarming the Officer with a casual wave of his hand. 

“Dragon!” it’s Knight’s turn to pull him down. 

More bullets go whizzing past, coming from the surrounding rooftops. Merlin looks around, feeling for the mini explosions of gunpowder, and a dozen more guns explode. 

“We have to get off this roof,” Knight says. 

“My grappling hook is shot - go without me,” Merlin says, tossing the offending object aside. 

“Never,” Knight grips his arm tightly. 

“I can’t get off this roof without it. You have to go, Knight, jump,” Merlin snarls, pulling his arm out of Knight’s grip - or trying to, at least. 

The Officer is moving closer, baton in hand, and there’s at least dozen more behind him. Even with the two of them together, the odds of getting off this roof without hurting anyone are bad. 

“Jump with me,” Knight says, earnest. 

“What?” Merlin looks at him blankly - he’s aware that Knight can’t see his expression, but he can’t help it. 

“I’ll catch you, just--” Knight breaks off, gripping Merlin’s arm with more force. “Do you trust me?” 

“Yes,” Merlin says, immediate, unthinking, and he’s surprised to find it’s true. 

Against all common sense, Merlin does trust Knight. 

“I’ll catch you.” Knight says, meeting Merlin’s eyes through their masks. 

Merlin nods tightly, placing his hand on top of Knight’s. 

“Don’t move!” the Officer shouts as they stand. “Freeze!” 

Merlin smirks beneath his mask. 

“I don’t get on well with the cold, sorry,” he shoots a line of fire out in a wall between them and the police, giving them the time they need to escape.

“Together?” Knight asks, offering his hand to Merlin. 

“Together.” Merlin says, taking his hand. 

And then they jump off the roof. 

***

Merlin isn’t quite sure when he started trusting Knight. That’s the thing about trust - it sneaks up on you, sometimes. It seems reckless, perhaps, dangerous even, for Merlin to trust Knight so much, but. 

But. 

Trust is leaping off a roof with a broken grappling hook and only a practical stranger at your side, with no guarantee that he’ll catch you. Reckless, dangerous, potentially deadly. 

Stupid. 

Merlin leaps anyway. 

***

They wind up on a different rooftop, ten blocks away, Knight tossing Merlin up before jumping up himself. Merlin had flown through the air with the strength of Knight’s throw, and the feeling of it had left him more elated than he’d felt in months. 

When Knight lands beside him, Merlin is next to him in a heartbeat. 

“Incredible,” Merlin whispers. “You’re incredible,” 

“Yeah, well,” Knight murmurs, tongue darting out to moisten his lips. “You’re pretty incredible yourself.” 

Merlin’s eyes track the movement, and there’s a heavy pause, the air between them becoming loaded with anticipation. Then - then - they collide, Merlin pulling his mask up enough for Knight’s lips to crash onto his. They stumble back, Knight pushing Merlin into the nearest wall hard enough to bend the metal lining it. Merlin rakes his fingers over Knight’s armour, desperately wanting to feel his skin, but the leather is impenetrable. 

“Fuck,” Knight whispers, pulling back to take Merlin in. 

His eyes are dark with desire, and Merlin can’t take it anymore, so he pulls him back, trying to get as close as he can, but their armour is in the way. He settles instead for deepening their kiss, and Knight pushes back, their tongues clashing, and it’s filthy, honestly, but it’s been so long since Merlin has been with anyone, and he _needs_ this, dammit, he needs it. 

Desire pools deep in his belly, the heat of it warming his hands, and he pulls away just in time, shoving Knight away just as his hands erupt into flames.

“Sorry,” he manages, trembling slightly, trying desperately to reign the fire in. 

“Dragon,” Knight says, panting, want deepening his voice, and it goes straight to Merlin’s belly. 

Then the word catches up with Merlin’s brain, and he takes a few steps away, breathing deeply to clear his head, the fire on his hands dying down. 

“You okay?” Knight asks, voice still husky, sending a shiver down Merlin’s spine. 

“Yeah,” he breathes. “Yes, I just....” 

He breaks off, unable to explain why he’s feeling this way. His thoughts cross to Arthur, to the gleam of his blond hair in the cheap lights of their apartments, and he exhales deeply. 

“There’s kind of… someone,” Merlin says. 

“Oh,” Knight says, staring at Merlin like they’re never seen each other before. 

Merlin’s suddenly aware of his mask, pushed up to his cheeks, exposing more of his face than Knight’s ever seen. He presses his lips together, tasting Knight there. 

“Actually, me too,” Knight scratches his neck, glancing away, and Merlin takes the chance to pull his mask back down. “Maybe,” 

“That’s good,” Merlin says, nodding.

The air between them has thickened into something more heavier, more awkward, and Merlin’s not quite sure what to do. 

“I suppose I’ll go, then,” Knight says after a beat. 

Merlin nods again. “Okay. See you tomorrow?” 

“Yeah,” Knight smiles tightly. “See you,”

He takes a few steps towards the edge of the roof, then glances back to Merlin. 

“I’ll take the lift,” Merlin says, unable to bear the thought of Knight holding him again. “Knight - I hope it works out for you, with your someone,” 

“You too,” Knight replies. 

Then he’s gone. 

***

Merlin rushes home, eager to wash the night off in his shower. He makes a brief pit stop at the lair to change, thanking god that Gwen and Lance had taken the night off, and is at his building in just under twenty minutes. 

He’s just beginning to relax, tension melting out of his muscles, when he runs into Arthur in the hall. From the looks of it he’s just come up the stairs. 

“Busy night?” Arthur asks, glancing across at Merlin. 

“Yeah,” Merlin nods, unwittingly thinking back to the feel of Knight’s weight against his. “You?” 

“Oh yeah,” Arthur sighs. “Got ambushed at work,” 

“No kidding,” Merlin mutters. 

“Want to talk about it?” Arthur’s closer now, so they’re not talking across the length of the hall. 

“I just… had an opportunity with someone,” Merlin hesitates over the words a little. “A friend,” 

“What happened?” Arthur leans against the wall. 

“I realised that they weren’t the person I wanted to be with,” he feels a little vulnerable admitting it. 

“I know the feeling,” Arthur smiles. “Look, if you ever need someone to talk about it with…” 

“Maybe,” Merlin says - discussing relationship issues with the man he’s pretty sure he’s falling for. Great.

“What? Arthur laughs. “Don’t you trust me?” 

Merlin stares, flashing back to kneeling on the roof with Knight, his hand gripping Merlin’s arm, eyes boring into his, voice whispering _‘do you trust me?’_

“Merlin?” Arthur asks, reaching out. “I was just joking--” 

“Of course I trust you,” Merlin says, mind reeling. “I’m just…” he thinks of the glint of Knight’s teeth, lips wide in a feral grin; of his head tipping back in a laugh, throat bared; of his blue, blue eyes staring into Merlin’s own. “Knight?” 

Arthur’s eyes widen, shock taking over his features. 

“How did you…” he breaks off, staring wide-eyed at Merlin. Merlin can tell his brain working, the cogs turning, and practically _see_ the pieces click into place. “Dragon?” 

Merlin nods slowly, stumbling forward, reaching for Arthur’s arm. He feels as though someone has hit him in the stomach, like he can’t quite take a full breath. 

“Yes,” Merlin says, nodding faster. “Yes, it’s me.” 

Arthur reaches for Merlin’s outstretched hand, dumbfounded, mouth slightly ajar. 

“Arthur,” he says, desperate. “It’s you, it’s you. You’re my someone,” 

“Merlin,” Arthur breathes, clinging onto Merlin’s hand so tightly he worries for a second about his bones. “You’re my someone too.”

They collide together for the second time that night, a hot mess of lips and teeth and tongue, hands roaming over areas now covered by softer materials. Arthur pushes them into his apartment, sucking marks into Merlin’s neck, guiding him back to the bedroom. They fall on the bed, panting, and Merlin is desperately trying to keep a lid on his flames.

“Fuck, Merlin,” Arthur hisses, swear rolling off his tongue for the second time in so many hours. 

“Arthur,” Merlin gasps, hands straying into decidedly less neutral territory. 

And - he’s so glad it worked out this way, so glad that Arthur turned out to be Knight. Somehow, he’s managed to get this, get him, and he feels like the luckiest man in the world. He’s sure they’re not without their share of problems, but they’re an issue for tomorrow’s Merlin and Arthur; tomorrow’s Dragon and Knight.

For now, they’ve got a soft bed, and an empty apartment, and no obligation to be anywhere for the next fifteen hours at least. 

As far as Merlin’s concerned, you can’t beat that. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> Please leave a comment I'm a slut for feedback xxx


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